


Pressure Points

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is far too active for John's sanity. Simplest way to handle that? Knock him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure Points

Sherlock is running around the flat like a mad man again. Too many days since the last case, out of nicotine patches, and relenting about how John needs to do something entertaining. Because apparently, it's his job to entertain Sherlock now.

The hours have dragged on like this, the taller man running around, climbing over things, acting like he can't sit still for one bloody minute. With almost too sharp of a tone, John gets up from his chair, laptop pushed aside, and says, "Sherlock!"

The detective's head swivels around as quickly as the word came out. A confused expression crosses his face, but for the first time in too long, he is still. Tongue tied, he can't even properly respond. "Wha-?"

John takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "Stay still, or God help me, I will make you stay still."

Naturally, Sherlock is only still for a moment before he is in an uproar about something else, asking for John to appease him with cigarettes or something to solve, anything! Hell, he would even play Cluedo, it's that bad. He's climbing over the coffee table when John grabs his arm, fingers pressing a little too hard into the skin, bruising slightly. 

"Sherlock, stop."

Maybe it's just the complete need for silence in that moment, or maybe it's a matter of not being able to take it and reverting to his army days.. but John brings his other hand up and presses his finger to the vegas nerve in Sherlock's neck.

In an instant, the sudden pressure to the point makes John's counterpart go limp with unconsciousness, eyes rolling up in his head before his body began to fall. Being the good friend, mostly, that he is, John caught Sherlock and set him down on the couch. 

After about two minutes, Sherlock starts to regain his consciousness, headache already in play. He felt nauseated, but thankfully his body didn't react on that nausea.

"John..?"

"Just relax for a while, Sherlock. You'll be fine."

**Author's Note:**

> Original work posted via my tumblr:  
> http://quinngrey.tumblr.com/post/22320373610/lyrics-are-poetry-replied-to-your-post-prompts


End file.
